Monthly Archives: January 2015

Some say I have butterflies Dancing in my head, Green when winter’s away, Red when trusting a dream, Blue in hazy clearings, Opening my paths To you To me To him… My yellow butterflies are polished silver Glowing of ideas,…

I know nothing of love, only that it is green. My love is painted upon the love of another. Love is not a polished thing, but polishing your world with dreams is Love. Love means spreading her paths with flowers. “If I had a flower…

It was a strange and eerie time. Difficult. I don’t look back. I don’t like the times when we are compelled, at least by convention, to create our invisible boundaries: New Years… There is nothing to see. Or Do. Just…